A/N: Apparently, leaving people unsettled isn't cool. This is a follow-up and now part of a three-shot and takes place just before the ending of the previous chapter. Please enjoy, thanks for reading!


"So that's it?"

William turns, unexpectedly faced with Lizzie. Alone. Her skin is flushed from running around and her hair is windswept from the day's events. Breathtaking, and for a second he can't quite focus. His body's reaction is immediate and he swallows hard to fight the response.

"What?"

Lizzie is walking toward him cautiously, like she's afraid he'll turn away.

"Back in San Francisco when you put me in that car and said goodbye, was it goodbye forever?"

Caught off guard, William grows flustered and clenches his jaw tightly. The one moment he let his guard down enough to push the envelope and it was buried under a tumultuous event. Saying goodbye was the only option at the time due to the unusual circumstance. Now, it's clearly been a cause of concern for her.

"I… don't know what it was." Truth. That works.

She nods at him, her gaze fixed on the buttons of his shirt. Taking a deep breath, she presses on. "Why didn't you return any of my calls?"

William prepared for this question, but can't for the life of him remember what his response was. Staring at himself in the mirror and looking at her wary, piercing blue eyes is drastically different. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, ducking his head when he can't so much as form a sentence.

"Were you ignoring me because of what happened with Lydia? That you thought I'd feel indebted?"

His head shoots up in surprise, shaking his head. "How'd you find out?"

"Fitz and Gigi… and Lydia," Lizzie replies as she crosses her arms. "Look, I don't know why you did it, or how you did it, but…" she pauses and draws her eyes up to meet his. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"Lizzie —" This is the exact conversation he wants to avoid. "I— it wasn't just me. I had help. I — certainly don't want," he takes an unbidden step, closing the gap between them, "please don't feel like you have to… thank me."

"That's not why I called, you know," she says abruptly. She takes a deep breath, almost like she's gathering strength. "I just wanted to know…" she hesitates and bites her lip, distracting him. Shaking her head again, she looks up, a split-second smile. "Was it all real? Pemberley? Because sometimes I look back, and… I can't tell anymore."

The way her voice cracks makes him anxious in ways he can't understand. This is not how it's supposed to be. He wants to reach out and comfort her. Badly. But once he does, he's never going to let go, and he can't make that commitment yet.

As a reminder, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and frowns, the board members want to meet in three hours. Sighing, he pockets the offensive device and looks back to Lizzie. She's watching him closely, like she's weighing her odds.

"I apologize for not returning your calls," his words are stiff, and he frowns at the way they cut through the wind, causing that disheartened look on her face. He longs to stay with her, but there is more at stake than this conversation. "I have been incredibly busy at work."

"… With the merger?" She says it in a way that makes it seem like he will not provide the correct answer. Then again, he's been wrong when it comes to Lizzie in the past. The way she watches him makes him stand taller, nervous. "Right, you're the CEO of a prominent company. Of course you don't have time for…"

Her words drift off with her gaze, almost like she's talking to herself. Her flippant tone concerns him, but he doesn't know how to rectify the situation. He suddenly wishes for Gigi's presence, if only for her insight. He watches Lizzie for a moment, unsure of himself.

Suddenly she reaches up, startling him as she runs her fingers along the small cut on his cheekbone. It was a well-deserved punch — Bing was angry with William for his interference in his and Jane's relationship. Afterward, Bing went to the Bennets and William iced his cheek.

"Still righting past wrongs, I see."

Lizzie's eyebrows arch, causing him to ease into her hand. He closes his eyes tightly, clenching his jaw as her fingers dust along his skin. She's making it so very hard for him to leave, but he truly must.

Just in case he's forgotten, his phone buzzes again, breaking the fleeting moment. He opens his eyes and reaches up, slowly pulling her hand away. "I'm sorry, but I really must return to Pemberley."

She slips her hand away, biting her bottom lip. "Sure, sorry. Have a safe trip."

"Take care, Lizzie." William turns and walks to his car, not daring to look back.

He spends the entire trip to the airport trying to figure out what happened and why everything seemed so final. Once he's aboard the airplane, he pulls out his laptop from his briefcase. In doing so, his hand brushes along the tickets he purchased for what could have been their first official date. He hopes that he'll be able to try again. Someday.

Of course, if he'd only known then that what she perceived as his indifference was the nail in their coffin.

.::.::.

William goes straight from the airport to the office where the board has convened for an emergency meeting regarding his intentions to merge with another company. He has a majority in his pocket, but there are two that refuse to relent, both of whom work for his Aunt Catherine, who has a nearly equal stake in the company. Of course, she is adamantly opposed to the merger and continues to hold a grudge for the poor performance of the Domino beta run.

It's nearly 530 in the morning when they all come to a tentative agreement. Even then, the board will resume discussions at noon. He has at least two more days of negotiations before he embarks on the next round.

Mrs. Reynolds practically bars the door shut and forces him inside. He collapses on the couch in his office, instructing her to hold all calls and accept no visitors. Moments later, he falls into an unsettled sleep, still feeling the ghost of Lizzie's hand on his face.

When he wakes, it's to his sister, fuming angry.

"William Darcy, what the hell did you do?"

Sleep clings to the edges of his mind. Unprepared for such an assault, he pushes up and palms his eyes, yawning.

"Pardon?"

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be taking a break! With Bing! Convincing Lizzie to take the job and move up here."

"Gigi, you do realize I run a company, right?"

She crosses her arms, stubborn. "Congratulations. You still put on your pants like the rest of us."

Will is wholly unprepared for her unwarranted vitriol. "Gigi, I just spent seven hours negotiating with Aunt Catherine's lawyers and several board members over joining with a multi-million dollar company. Please forgive me if I don't quite meet your demands at the moment."

He walks to his desk where Mrs. Reynolds kindly set out a large cup of coffee and toast. Grabbing the cup, he turns to find Gigi giving him a disgruntled look.

"I just… I don't understand William. What happened?"

"What do you mean?" He takes a seat at his desk, stretching out the kinks in his neck. "I was with Bing for five days, fixing a couple things."

"And did you see Lizzie at all?"

"Once. At a coffee shop. She was… surrounded by her family. It was a challenge."

Clearly frustrated with his complete lack of finesse, Gigi slumps in the chair across from his desk.

"Okay, then what happened yesterday at the party?"

"How do you know all this?"

"Stick to the topic, William!"

"I only spoke with her for a few moments. My phone was going off incessantly about the board convening, so I said my goodbyes and left."

Gigi stares blankly, causing William to grow wary. Eyes narrowed, she starts again. "Alright... how exactly did you say goodbye to Lizzie?"

"I don't know… the usual way."

"I want verbatim!"

William, leaning back at the fervor in her tone, casts about for the conversation. "She… approached me before I left... asked why I never returned her calls, I said I was incredibly busy, she thanked me for what I did regarding George, then I told her I had to go." He breathes out and looks up at Gigi. "I said… 'Take care, Lizzie.' and left."

Her eyebrows shoot upwards as she stands quickly, hands on her hips. "TAKE. CARE. LIZZIE? You don't tell someone you're in love with to TAKE CARE. That's something you tell the gardener or Joey from the mailroom... NOT Lizzie Bennet."

"Would you please stop yelling?"

"Only when you stop acting like a complete asshat!" She starts pacing back and forth, completely beside herself. "I can't believe you! First, you don't return her calls, then you act like you don't even care when you are near her. What is she supposed to think? Please, please explain your logic here."

Ever so helpful, Mrs. Reynolds sticks in her head and taps her wrist, indicating it's time for him to get going. William nods and looks back to an expectant Gigi.

Wanting to be done with the conversation and on his way, he cuts to the point. "I was afraid, Gigi. This is someone who up until recently, only ever looked at me with disgust. To even hope for friendship seemed like a stretch, but the thought of anything more is downright masochistic. I asked her out to dinner before she left and she just stared at me like I had two heads."

"You surprised her!"

"No, that was not surprise. That was dismay." William stands and slips into a fresh blazer. "Gigi, I need to return to my meeting."

"Fine, go!" Gig stands and walks to the door, turning as she reaches it. "I don't know why I even try anymore, especially if you're going to willfully misread every encounter with her. Maybe she's afraid too!"

"Doubtful."

"You're incorrigible. No wonder Lizzie accepted the job in Chicago."

"Chicago?" William halts, gaping at his sister.

"Yeah, you didn't know?" Her face quickly morphs into solemn and repentant.

Suddenly the room starts pressing in on him. He looks back up at his sister and shakes his head once, "No… Uh, with… which company?"

Gigi shrugs. "No idea. But I can find out."

.::.

William has been in complete hell for the past three days. After the impromptu tongue-lashing from his sister, he's run the gauntlet of monotonous negotiations and meetings. All the while his brain is in overdrive, trying to figure out what to do regarding Lizzie.

It is nearly nine at night and he's still at Pemberley. He's gone home once, and that was to pick up a change of clothes because he went through all of his spare suits at work.

Sitting at his desk in his dimly lit office, he stares at his cell phone, mocking him in its capacity to communicate.

He called Lizzie twice the previous afternoon in between meetings, but it went directly to voicemail. He's not sure if she's screening his calls or what, but it makes him uncomfortable. Now, he's spent the last ten minutes trying to call her again. He's gotten as far as pressing send twice.

A knock at the door breaks his concentration, pulling him out of the fog.

"William?" it's Dave, the director for digital planning and development. William stands and walks to the older gentleman, shaking his hand.

"Dave, it's awfully late. Why are you still here?"

"I could ask the same of you." They take a seat on the couch in his office. "Listen, I wanted to follow up on what you asked me about after the meeting yesterday… about Lizzie Bennet."

Right. He asked Dave if she'd applied to work in his department. Uncertain, Dave promised to follow up.

"Before we get into this, I just want to say something," Dave gives William a measured look. "You need to know I think the world of you, that you're like a son to me, and I would do anything for you."

Disconcerted, William looks down at his hands. "Thank you, Dave, really."

"But I really need to know: what's the deal with this gal? Both you and your sister have asked me about her, and I'm a little confused. She was a great intern and I never had any complaints against her."

"So you enjoyed working with her?"

"Yes," Dave nods. "Very bright and vivacious. Lots of ideas and drive. I told her to apply for a position a few days before she left on that family emergency, but I never heard one way or another."

"… I see."

"After we spoke, I went digging yesterday and it appears that she'd submitted an application the day before she left. Joan in Human Resources followed through with all Lizzie's references and apparently we were just waiting on her diploma."

"So no offer was made?"

"If there was, I didn't make it."

William swallows, feeling unsettled. Everything has gone so very poorly.

"Are you? Going to make an offer?" William clears his throat. He is not in the business of hiring and firing for departments. Lacking the respective expertise, he's never once interfered with a director's wishes.

"Definitely. I just need to know one thing."

"Yes?"

"Are you still here at work because of this damn merger, or is she the real reason?"

"Uh," William breaks eye contact and looks down in his lap again, flustered.

"Say no more, I know that look." Dave stands and pats WIlliam on the back firmly. "I'd have made an offer with or without your knowledge, but… this? Makes things so much more interesting for me. I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you," William stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Oh, Dave? Please don't… tell her about my involvement. She earned this in her own right."

Dave winks and opens the door. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

.::.

The following morning, William finally gets through on Lizzie's phone.

"Hello?"

"Lizzie?" He hears movement and muffled words.

"Hi!" the voice that is not Lizzie says. "Darcy, we need to have a talk pronto dente."

"Lydia?"

"The one and only." There's a gasp and some more movement, like a door shutting. "Listen, I've only got about twenty seconds before Lizzie breaks this door down."

"What —"

"Dude. You know how grateful I am to you, BUT... My sister cannot move to Chicago. CANNOT. I don't know what you did or what happened, but she is super moody and I don't like it. So fix yourself before you wreck yourself."

"I… don't know what that means."

"Get it together, Darcy! Get in your car —"

"Lydia! Get off my phone" William's eyebrows rise at hearing Lizzie's voice.

"— drive down here —"

"I swear on your cat that if you do not give me my damn phone right now…

"— and kiss and make up—"

THUD "LYDIA!"

"— then I will personally remove your head from your body. Gotta go!"

William pulls the phone away from his ear, the dial tone deafening.

.::.

When William calls again that evening, he's surprised that Lizzie actually picks up.

"Hey," her voice is weary.

"Hi…" he hesitates, unprepared for her to answer. There's an awkward pause that makes him rise out of his chair and start pacing.

"… did you need something?" She is stilted and unsure.

To hear your voice. "I… tried calling you… a few times."

"Yeah, I noticed." Her words are clipped, conversely making him slow to respond.

"Gigi told me… about the job in Chicago," William pushes the words out, thankful he can't see her. "Congratulations."

"Oh?" Lizzie's voice gets higher. "Yeah. The Windy City."

"… what made you choose Chicago?" He continues to pace, tucking his hand under his arm.

"A couple things: it's run by a an amazing woman, it's opening a new digital media branch, and… they made me an offer."

William halts in his tracks, knowing this company. "Female—run?"

"Yes."

"… Is it Woodhouse Incorporated?"

She hesitates on the other end, suspicious as she replies, "… yes… why?"

William grins. "Oh… I'm acquainted with her husband."

"Of course," Lizzie's voice has an edge to it. "So… yes. There's that."

"Right. Woodhouse. And you've already interviewed?"

"It was a teleconference. I head out in ten days to find a studio and meet the creative team."

Walking to his computer, he checks his calendar and can't help but smile again. "That's rather…" timely? perfect? "interesting. How long will you be there?"

"Just a couple days. Long enough to find a place. My mom isn't'…" Lizzie stops herself. "Sorry, I know you're busy. I'll let you go."

"No!" He says, a little to forcefully. "I mean, no, it's alright. I finally have a moment to breathe."

"… oh." She breathes out. It makes him start pacing again. "How have you been?"

Letting out a weary sigh, William switches hands. "Where do I begin…?"

They talk for another ten minutes before Lizzie gets a call on the other line and ends the conversation.

Over the course of the following week, William calls her the same time every evening. Their conversations are always light, accounting of the days events and easy topics like new media initiatives and what they'd do if they ran other companies.

.::.

"You can't be serious!" Lizzie huffs. "There is no way that Gotham could survive with out Wayne Enterprises."

"Of course it could. Bruce Wayne only wanted to restore the city. Once that happened, he could fade out."

"Nonsense. Just because Rachel died, did not give him an excuse to just… leave the public eye."

"He didn't. He had Catwoman."

"Hold-up, that is movieverse, not the comics."

"Actually…"

.::.

"I'm going to have to disagree with you."

"Oh, that's new," Lizzie sighs.

"Dante's Inferno is much better than Paradisio."

"I like how you're removing Purgatorio completely from the picture."

"My Italian professor was adamantly opposed to it."

"So you can't think for yourself?"

"No, she simply hated the idea of purgatory and I couldn't help but agree."

"But… that's so weak! What about the motives behind sin?"

"Do you really want to go there?"

"Bring it, Will." She doesn't seem to notice that she called him by his first name. He certainly does. "I cannot wait for you to wax philosophic."

"Just remember, you asked for this…"

.::.

"Hey Will?" Lizzie's voice is quiet.

"Yeah?"

"You can hang up, you know."

"No, I swear, I'm awake."

"I just heard you snore."

"No, that was… I have a cold."

"Right… Go to bed. You need your beauty sleep."

"Lizzie Bennet, did you just call me beautiful?"

"Good night, WILLIAM."

He falls asleep smiling.

.::.

"What do you mean she gave you bangs?"

"I mean… when I was nine, Lydia, my sweet baby sister, snuck into my room when I was sleeping and cut my hair."

"Wow that is —"

"I got her back."

"Oh?"

"I told her Santa was fake and then I put chewing gum in her hair."

"That's incredibly harsh."

"In retrospect, I agree. However, our matching bowl hair cuts were nothing but a delight to her."

"See, she's always wanted to be like you."

"Eh, sure. If that's what you want to call it."

.::.

The day before she leaves for Chicago, she's pointedly reticent on the phone, incurring much frustration on his end. Their conversation is brief and he can't help but wonder if she's finally starting to come around.

Just as Lizzie is dropped off at her local airport, William Darcy is boarding an airplane as well, both with specific goals in mind.

Several hours later, he exits an elevator and enters a large, eccentrically outfitted lobby, complete with wall-to-wall bookshelves full of endorsed items: books, art, and media — a 21st Century Library of sorts. Glancing around, his attention is drawn to Lizzie across the way, laughing and conversing with several similarly eccentric people. She looks different, somehow — refined, yet lively in a way he's only seen at brainstorm meetings at Pemberley.

Continuing on, William follows his college mate, John Knightley, who catches the eye of one of the people standing near Lizzie. Once they reach the group, he can't help but enjoy the complete and utter shock on Lizzie's face. A couple minutes later, Lizzie walks over to William, shaking her head.

"You've got to be kidding me," she places her hands on her hips. "Are you serious? Of all the companies in all the world, it had to be this one?"

"I could say the same for you. Of all the companies to work at, and you chose the one with which I am merging."

"One might say it's uncanny."

"Indeed." He shoves his hands in his pockets, wishing for the ability to pace around in his default state of discomfit.

She scowls at him and crosses her arms. If she's trying to be menacing, it's not working. He plucks up the remainder of his courage and pushes ahead.

"What are you doing this evening?"

She hesitates, giving him a curious look. "Nothing, really. There's a welcome dinner tomorrow night for new employees, but nothing this evening. Why?"

"Meet me for drinks at six. Just wear what you have on, you look lovely."

Her skin flushes in a flattering way as her gaze flits to the stripes on his tie. "I… don't… I don't think that's a good idea."

Crestfallen, William curls his fingers in his pockets. "Why not?"

Lizzie hesitates for a moment, biting her lip. He's starting to attribute that character trait to possible anxiety. Interesting.

"Because… I just —"

Suddenly, he doesn't want her to finish what she's about to say. "—Tell you what. Join me for drinks. I'm meeting my friends for dinner at the same place at seven. If it's really that awful, you can take your leave. No harm, no foul."

"But —"

"Just a drink or two. No big deal." Being this forward does not come naturally to him and he wonders how off-putting it actually is. Fortunately, it appears to work on this one occasion.

"Fine," Lizzie sighs. "Just one. Where am I meeting you?"

He relays the address, waving as he backs away to rejoin John.

.::.

They're sitting at the bar in a swanky establishment. She's facing outwards with her legs crossed, one arm propping her up. He wonders if her positioning has anything to do with trying to make a fast escape.

"I never pegged you for a martini kind of girl." William taps the stem of her glass, looking back to her.

A quick grin as she tucks her hair behind her ear. "What kind of girl did you peg me for then?"

He pulls his gaze away from her and looks forward at the wall stacked with layers of liquor bottles. Scrunching up his nose, he turns back to her and says the first thing that comes to mind. "Cape cod?"

"Child's play." She shakes her head. "That's the drink girls get when we want to feel adult but don't like liquor yet."

"Really? So what does whiskey say about me?"

Lizzie opens her mouth, but then shuts it quickly, shaking her head. "Nope. Not going to say it."

"No, please. I'm curious."

"You sure?" He nods. "I'd say your father probably drank a similar drink, either whiskey or scotch… that you don't necessarily enjoy it, but drink it because it's expected of you."

He's quiet for a second then shrugs. "That's… fairly accurate. I'm impressed. What do you think I actually like to drink then?"

"G and T?"

He shakes his head.

"Rum and coke?"

He raises his eyebrows. "How'd you guess that?"

"It's a poor man's drink. I figured you like to slum it on occasion and your beverage of choice can suffice."

"Have you really considered my drink choice that much?"

"No," she states thoughtfully, "when I'm out and bored, I assign a drink to everyone's personality. Lydia is a irish car bomb, Jane is white wine, Bing is a Sidecar, Gigi is a Cosmo, Charlotte is a Mojito."

William smiles, his head tilting to the side. "Charlotte, a mojito?"

"Yup, cool and refreshing. Best thing to have around in the summer."

"Ah, got it," nodding, William sips his whiskey, relishing the burn as it warms his insides. Or perhaps it's the close proximity to Lizzie. He can't tell.

"Can I ask you a question?" He looks back at her, the easy grin no longer on her face.

"Sure." William swallows, bracing for impact.

"I just…" she looks away from him, focusing on a nearby crowd. "Truly, why did you never call me back? Were you really that busy?"

William downs the last of his drink and turns to Lizzie fully, his glass clinking against the bar. "Yes and no. At first, I thought you were calling because of my and Gigi's part in taking down the website… or that Jane or Lydia had convinced you to do it. I…" he looks down at the lacquered finish on the bar, picking at the divots.

"I didn't want that to be the reason you called me. I just… wanted you to call because you wanted to." He can feel her eyes upon him, the way she traces his features and finds it unsettling. He taps his glass as the bartender passes, indicating a refill.

"You'd have known why I was calling if you'd just answered. Maybe I did just want to talk to you."

"Did you? Really, that's all?" He turns to look her squarely in the eyes, feeling much closer than they did moments ago. She seems to realize this at the same time and draws away slightly, looking down.

"I don't know. I know at one point I did want to thank you. But then…"

He finds himself leaning in closer as she trails off. Without thinking, he reaches out two fingers and slides them along the inside of Lizzie's wrist, resting against the bar. He can feel the thrum of her pulse beneath the pads of his fingers, speeding up the longer he rests there. It draws her attention to his hands as he repeats her, "But then…?"

When she looks up at him it feels like he's caught and completely unable to blink or look away. He can't say that he minds. "I… well, I —"

"William! Sorry we're late. Emma insisted on taking the dogs out before we left home," William's friend says as he walks up behind them.

The moment is broken as she clears her throat, looking at the newcomer behind William. He's never wanted to halt time as badly as this moment. Turning, he offers a smile to his old friend.

"George, it's been too long," William stands and turns, his legs brushing against Lizzie's. Reaching out, he shakes the gentleman's hand, smiling.

"I cannot agree more," he replies with the soft lilt of an Americanized Brit. "And who is your friend?"

"Sorry, Lizzie Bennet," he places his hand between her shoulder blades as she reaches a hand out to shake. "This is George Knightley, older brother to my college friend John and —"

"Husband of Emma Woodhouse," she replies quickly. "It's so good to meet you."

"Likewise." George looks at William in a way that indicates he has some explaining to do. "Would you care to join us for dinner? Emma claimed a large table in the corner. It would be no problem to add another."

"Oh!" Lizzie straightens beside him. "No, no thank you. I couldn't. I was just…" She looks up at William, somehow hoping for an out.

"We were just catching up," William offers. "However, I think you'd do well to join us, Lizzie. I think you and Emma will get along famously."

"I… uh," she hesitates, still trying to think her way out of the situation.

"Good! It's settled," George claps his hands together. "Grab your drinks, I think Isabella is remorseful that she missed happy hour."

As George leads the way to their table, William feels Lizzie reach out and grab his hand. Not too pleasantly, either. "What the hell are you doing? I can't be here!"

"Nonsense. These are my friends. I want you to meet them."

"No, one of these people is the influential head of the company I haven't even begun working for. I'm literally about to start hyperventilating."

He stretches his fingers, loosening her grip. Rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, he turns and pulls her along with him.

.::.

Introductions are made as they reach the table, Lizzie is all smiles and charm as she meets Emma Woodhouse, and her sister Isabella who is also married to John, William's friend whom he was with earlier.

"Wow, this is…" Lizzie starts, clamping her mouth shut.

"Incestuous, I know," Emma replies. "You can blame weddings and alcohol."

"That appears to be the reason behind all our problems," Lizzie says under her breath, only William can hear. He smiles at her, tucking his napkin in his lap. Conversation picks up immediately; both John and Emma the more outgoing of their siblings as they respectively engage William and Lizzie in discussion.

"So Lizzie, how do you know William?"

"We met last year… at a wedding actually. His friend also happens to be dating my sister."

"Interesting." Emma gives both of them a calculating look, filing away this information. "And what do you do?"

"I just graduated," Lizzie grips her glass tight. "… with a masters in mass communication."

"Oh! How wonderful." Emma reaches out and grips George's arm. "In addition to consulting at my company, George is a tenured professor at Northwestern, specializing in Social Media and Communication."

William hears all of this with one ear, focusing on John with the other.

"So, glad you were able to make it out here," John says as he pours a glass of Chianti for himself and Isabella. "It's not like you don't know what you're in for."

"That's not it at all. My Aunt Catherine is not on board with this… alliance and has been giving me nothing but a trouble. Coming out here was more of a reprieve than anything else."

William misses the way John's eyes stray to a smiling Lizzie as he says, "I bet. Tell me, when have you and Emma decided to lock everything in place?"

"Don't start, John," George calls from across the table. "The closest we're getting to discussing work is content. Business is for the boardroom."

William glances between his friends. "I couldn't agree more," he leans back and sips his whiskey, glancing to John again. "How's your new nanny getting on?"

Both Isabella and John share a soft smile. "Well, though not nearly as wonderful as Mrs. Weston."

"Please, it actually hurts me for you to mention her name," Emma interrupts with a sad look. "She will always be Mrs. Taylor to me."

"Now Emma," Isabella intones patiently, reminding William of the way Jane sometimes speaks to Lizzie. "She is so fortunate to have met someone at this stage in her life. Besides, it was you who introduced them. You should be happy for her!"

Frowning, Emma looks to Lizzie. "Mrs. Taylor — sorry, Weston, was our nanny growing up. Our mother died when we were young and our father was building an empire. After we were grown, she was kind enough to take care of all our children."

"Where is she now?" Captured by the story, Lizzie's expression is forlorn.

"She's left us for a man from Surrey, England. I've no idea when we shall see her again." Emma sighs, looking down.

The waiter comes around taking their orders and topping off their glasses. As they await their first course, William finds himself relaxing with such good company. He can't help it when his gaze frequently finds Lizzie, animatedly discussing the Random House—Penguin Books merger with George and Emma, both seated to her right.

"Goodness," George states after Lizzie makes a very valid and impressive point. "Are you sure she's not one of your lawyers, Darcy? Should we be worried?"

William grins at the flush blooming along Lizzie's cheeks as she reaches for her glass of wine. "Of course not. She'd never consort with such rabble."

The effect is immediate as Lizzie nearly chokes on her wine, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. He reaches over and rubs her back, his fingers brushing along the ends of her hair.

"Are you alright?" he asks quietly as she gives him a mock glare.

"Oh, William Darcy, you will pay for that."

"Is that a threat?"

"Most certainly."

"Then I look forward to it." He smiles again, leaning back in his chair as he returns his hand to his own sad lap. Once again, the pair is oblivious to the looks exchanged around the table, curious and knowing. Emma is wearing a sly grin.

.::.

As the meal carries on, it becomes obvious that Emma and Lizzie are kindred spirits, set apart only by age and circumstance.

"I fear my wife might attempt to kidnap Lizzie before the night is over," George says over the robust discussion between the women at the table. "Where is she from?"

"She lives in central California, a small town. My friend Bing has a house near Lizzie and her sisters."

"Wonderful," John acknowledges, leaning over to talk. "George, didn't you say the digital media department was hiring? She'd be a wonderful fit."

"I'd offer her a job, but I'm pretty sure Darcy here would be loathe to part with her," George comments, observing the way both he and Lizzie have drifted closer during dinner.

Bewildered, William fumbles for a moment, the alcohol having loosened his tongue but not his thought process. "Actually… she uh —"

"Oh! Dessert!" Lizzie lights up as she bumps shoulders with William, unaware of his plight.

"The cake here is to die-for," Isabella claims, running her fingers down the menu.

"You would know, you do own this place," John says as he places his hand around her shoulders. "I can't believe this your fourth restaurant. I remember all the nights we spent at your first place, holding our breath and praying for patrons."

"Oh please," Emma rolls her eyes. "No such thing occurred. All Chicagoans needed to hear was Isabella's name attached to the place and they came flocking."

William glances over at Lizzie, the way she smiles at the interactions of this wonderful family. Feeling his gaze, she turns and looks at him, her eyebrows raised.

"How'd you meet them?"

"When I was in undergrad, John was my TA and teammate for a year."

"Teammate?" Lizzie looks thrown. "In what?"

"I was… I was a diver."

"Not just any diver," John leans forward and claps his hand over William's shoulder. "All American. Like… 14 times."

"That's impossible," William admonishes, growing bashful as Lizzie stares at him.

"Hold on…" Lizzie turns to him, clutching his forearm. All his bodily attention focuses on that one part of his bare arm. "You mean to tell me that Gigi wasn't the only swimmer in your family?"

"That is correct —"

"Oh so you have met Gigi?" Emma says as she looks at George. "How serious are you two then?"

William feels Lizzie's grip tighten reflexively before she quickly drops her hand to her lap. She shakes her head first, searching for words. "We're not, I mean, Will and I aren't..."

"We're friends," William states succinctly, rescuing Lizzie for once. "I just happened to run into her today and invited her out to drinks so we could catch up."

Lizzie glances at him, nodding. "Right. Catch up. We haven't seen each other in… a month or so."

"Oh," Emma frowns, disappointed. "Its just… you've never brought a girl with you before and you both get along so well, we just assumed…"

"No," Lizzie worries the napkin in her lap. "That would be difficult for numerous reasons."

William wants to ask her why, so badly, but the waiter walks up at that moment asking for their orders. Instead of getting anything, Lizzie settles for hot tea and grows somewhat quiet as his friends continue to talk.

As the evening draws to a close Lizzie excuses herself with the sisters to visit the ladies room. The ambush is almost immediate.

"What do you mean 'just friends'" John props his arms on the table. "I nearly asked if you wanted us to leave when you started sharing food!"

"That was a lot more food than she anticipated. And… I hate carrots, she does not. What's wrong with that?"

"Darcy," George attempts more tactfully. "I think what John means is: why are you only friends? We've never seen you act this way before."

"Because…" William swallows. "Lizzie and I started off on the wrong foot. We've both said horrible things to each other. A couple months ago, she interned at my company and we started getting along better. Unfortunately, she had to leave… a family emergency."

"So? That doesn't explain —"

"She's due to start working… for your wife's company, no less, in two weeks. Lizzie is only here to meet with her department and find a place to live."

The brothers sit quietly for a moment, absorbing this knowledge. "Oh. That's… a tragic turn of events."

"Wait —" John shakes his head. "Why didn't you hire her, you great ass?"

"I don't control who gets brought into the company, everyone earns it in their own right."

"So she wasn't good enough for Pemberley, but she's great for Woodhouse?"

"No, she… she practically idolizes Emma and your company offered her a job first."

'Why didn't you say something!"

"I didn't know," William frowns, spotting the ladies leaving the restroom, "until it was too late. The worst part is that there actually is a job waiting for her. She just doesn't know it."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," John proclaims, irritated at his meek friend. "Do something!"

"I…" William shakes his head. "I don't want to force it. I want her to be happy. I want her to choose to be at Pemberley because it meets her desires."

"You are the most…" John makes a disgruntled sound just as the ladies arrive. Lizzie looks a little pale. He can only imagine what Emma said to her in the restroom. She's been known to overstep her bounds before, to great detriment at times.

As everyone collects their jackets and step outside, William finds himself wishing the night weren't over. He bids them all goodnight, Lizzie exchanging warm goodbyes as well.

"Which way is your hotel?"

Lizzie looks up the street, squinting at a sign. "That way. I think."

"Oh, I'm that way too." He isn't even in the slightest. "Want to share a cab?"

Lizzie hesitates for obvious reasons, but ultimately overcomes her qualms. "Sure."

They summon a taxi and climb inside, William catching the length of Lizzie's leg as she slides across the seat. Swallowing, he settles inside as she gives her hotel's address.

"I had a great time tonight," Lizzie breaks the silence, looking at him with a smile. "Never thought that would be the crowd I'd be spending my evening with. I was wholly prepared for a deep-dish pizza."

"Well, I do think one of Isabella's restaurants has a gourmet version if that's something you're interested in."

She smiles, shaking her head. "No, that's quite alright. Thanks for inviting me."

"My pleasure," William's voice lowers. "You… said that you meet with the creative team for dinner tomorrow?"

"It's lunch, actually. I had the times wrong."

"Excellent. There's somewhere I want to take you."

"Will —"

"You had fun tonight, did you not?"

Lizzie bites her lip. "I did."

"Then trust me. Call me around five tomorrow and I'll swing by to pick you up."

The cab pulls up outside her hotel. She gives him the fare and steps out, poking her head in before shutting the door. "Fine. Nothing crazy."

"Of course not."

.::.

When he collects her the next day, he takes her to the pier, entreats her to ride the Ferris wheel despite her fear of heights (she latches onto his wrist and grips it tight the entire time. He can hardly breathe.), then walks with her along several shops, leading her to Grant Park as the sun is setting.

They adjourn to a small restaurant and order a bottle of wine to share. He feels so warm and comfortable, so content. Of course it is the perfect time for something to go wrong.

Lizzie is laughing (laughing!) at something he said, her knees brushing against his beneath the small table. Her phone starts to buzz, vibrating upon the table. The smile slips from her face as she holds it up, confused.

"Huh. This is a San Fransisco number. Do you mind if I take it?"

"No, go right ahead." William watches as she carries the phone outside, amused at the way she mimics his exact movements when on the phone. A couple minutes later, she hangs up and enters the restaurant. Her jaw is set in such a way that makes him lean back, nervous.

"Did you know?" Her teeth are clenched and she's gripping her phone tight.

"Know what?"

"That Dave was going to offer me a job? Did. You. Know?"

"I…" he hesitates, uncertain of how to proceed. "I asked him about it, what his intentions were. But —"

"So when he offered me a job, was it because of you? Not because I got it on my own right?"

"No! Of course not. I have nothing to do with who gets hired. You got it on your own merit." This seems to tamper her anger, but only slightly. She remains standing, her fingers digging into the back of the chair. Watching him closely, she blinks hard and shakes her head, letting out a mirthless laugh.

"What are we doing?"

Perplexed, William frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Darcy, you run a company. I'm a nobody from nowhere. You're about to merge with the very company I'm supposed to work at."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it. I am not like you! Can't you see that!?"

"Honestly? No."

"They maybe you should take a good look at yourself and examine why you're even bothering with someone like me."

"Lizzie —" He stands, wanting to stop her as she pulls her jacket off her chair and shoves her arms inside.

"Why'd you have to wait? Why'd you have to make me feel like that? Like I didn't matter?' she whispers, and it is now that he sees tears in her eyes. "Why?"

"I —"

"No —" she holds up her hand, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Don't answer that. I'm still taking the job in Chicago."

"But, Lizzie, please wait."

She swipes a tear from her cheek, shaking her head. "That job is perfect for me. And this?" she motions between them. "This is insane. No. Have a good night Darcy. Take care."

Just like that, she's gone like a tornado, having lain waste to his heart for the second time. Where did this Lizzie come from? Did she really feel that inferior? He slumps in his chair and surveys his nearly full wine glass. He downs it in two gulps, tosses down a twenty and collects his jacket.

When he gets outside, he calls a cab and provides the address to Lizzie's hotel.

William Darcy has a matter of great import to which he must attend.

.::.

2/3

A/N: So... EMMA FREAKING WOODHOUSE. I'm such a tool. I love it.

Oblivious Darcy is a challenge. Insecure Lizzie is sadmaking, but I spent all last chap making her that way, so there ya go. You might have some questions. Ask away. I may answer them in the next chapter.

Thanks for reading!